Missing You
by Gurahge-kay
Summary: A fail title, really. Just a bit of an angst one-shot, writing cause I'm bored! USUK. Angst. That's about it. T for language?


((**Author Commentary: I would like to note that this was written in about ten minutes, at 2:30 in the morning. So, excuse the little crappiness. Just a random, angsty one-shot because I got bored. 3-Much love.**))

Another night of useless sleep. Another night of thinking, staring into the unknown darkness before him, only dimly illuminated by the digital clock situated on the side table, slowly changing it's numbers, one by one.

**2:25...**

Arthur sighed, turning his eyes away from the red numbers, staring up. It was another night of loneliness, he realized. That kind of night where your stuck in your bed, numb to the world, each and every square inch of your body begging for the other's body heat to warm them up. You, yourself, begging for his arms around you.

**2:26...**

"God _damn _it!" the Brit yelled, to nothing, the darkness only getting darker as salty tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't ever escape this feeling, no, never... Not on nights like this. His heart, being squeezed, oozing out happiness onto the floor and seeping into the carpets, leaving behind nothing but the sweet memory of what used to be. _What used to be... _

Thoughts, so many thoughts, began to sweep inside the blond's mind, dancing, twirling, vivid little creations, bits and pieces of days laughing, of days arguing. Of nights where they'd fall back in love again... that indescribable feeling of waking up in the arms you love, the smell of stale lust in the air, the feel of it on his skin.

What Arthur wouldn't give to have him here, to have him now.

_Only a month more, Arthur... Alfred'll return from business..._

Grueling months that were spent waiting, waiting so long, for him to return to his own nation duties.

**2:30...**

Arthur shut his emerald eyes, squeezing out the acrid tears and forcing himself into a...quite shortlived sleep.

For some reason, the Brit woke up bright and early, six a.m. on the dot, even without an alarm. As a true, sophisticated gentleman... he was quite good at that. He stretched, dragging himself from the cotton sheets into his houseshoes, yawning and carrying on to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Out the bedroom door he went, a t-shirt pulled over his milky chest and boxers clinging to his waist. At the top of the stairs, he paused, startled, and sniffed the air a bit. Was something... burning?

His emerald eyes widened, if anyone knew the smell of burning food, it would be Arthur.

He rushed down the stairs, skidding to a halt at the foot of them as his green eyes fell upon a rather odd...exciting sight. "Oh...hey, babe!" Alfred said, turning around, dressed in everyday business attire, his khakis, a white button-down shirt that he left open, revealing his undershirt. The grin on his face brightened up the room, that was left without the light on, the only light pouring in through the window, showing a rather drizzly English day.

Arthur's heart skipped a beat or two. Finally, after months of waiting... he was here! Here _early! _"Alfred!" the Brit yelled happily, no, ecstaticly, wasting no time in running and practically tackling the American in a hug. "Good God, Alfred," he muttered into his neck, muffled slightly, "I've missed you so much."

"I know, I know.. but I'm here now, my boss let me leave early!" Alfred replied happily, squeezing Arthur tightly in the hug, kissing him lightly on the top of the head. "Oh yeah~ Ignore the toast... it's a little burnt. What can I say? Your cooking skills rubbed off on me."

The shorter one could only grin to that statement, ignoring the insult and rather paying more attention to the humor. A tan hand ran through his golden-blond hair, through all the choppy layers, stopping at the nape of his neck and tilting his head up. Short after, a pair of pink lips found his own... soft, moist, welcoming, that's for sure. Just how he remembered them. It wasn't long before the kiss was deepened, and the two little lovebirds were having their own kissing hay-day, right there in the kitchen. Not that anyone could see, and also, not that Arthur would care. Nor Alfred. Invite the world to audience this scene, damn it, neither would give a care. Not a care in the world.

_**Beep! Beep! Beep!**_

__"Huh?..." Arthur groaned, pulling the blanket off of his head, squinting at the soft light edging through the crack in the curtains, looking around his bedroom. Dazed, he searched for the souce of the noise, and more importantly, he searched for Alfred. But the source was only found, that blasted digital clock that he shut off haphazardly, also wondering why the alarm was set so early. Arthur hid his face in his hands, more tears squeezing their way out of his Realization hit him, as he finally came to the thought that it was all just a little dream.

**4:30...**


End file.
